Cats, Kisses, And Wagon Wheels. *finished*

One Direction, a band that was formed during the 2010 X Factor. Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson. Oh right, and Charlie Hunter. You didn't know about her? The Wagon-Wheel-addict with the curly hair? Well, I doubt anyone will tell you too much then. After all, what happens in the house, stays in the house. (Silver in the M Factor Competition) "This story is so hilarious, and it's already my favourite." - "...an amazing story, full of romance, drama, teenage life and loads more! The storyline is amazing, the characters are easy to visualize." - "An all around perfect book, even though it's a fanfiction!"

--Written for my cousin-in-law, Lottie, who wanted to have a One Direction Fanfic for her birthday. You are welcome.--

4. A Real Shot.

I was seriously going to be sick. I needed Anne. Actually, I just needed someone to hold my hair so that I didn’t have to walk on stage with puke in my bangs.

Okay, I could do this, I told myself and straightened myself out, poking Cher in the side. I had made friends with Cher and Katie earlier—they were really sweet.

She woke up, jumping.

“You drooled on the seat,” I told her, almost whispering. “And we have to go.”

“Kay.” She murmured and we left, hand in hand.

I needed Della so bad right now.

We all filed up on the stage, and I gulped uncomfortably. Simon didn’t look happy, as though he had to let someone he liked go. I stood next to Cher and a girl I didn’t know.

I wanted to puke.

“Okay, so the first one to get through to Judge’s Houses is…” Nicole trailed off, making a dramatic pause that made me want to slap her. “Katie Waissel.”

I clapped half-heartedly, Katie was nice, but she was good as well.

“Congratulations,” Nicole smiled as Katie went off the stage.

I was not going to make this. I was seriously going to puke on someone. I fanned myself, but that only made it worse.

“Raquel Thomas.” I knew her for her name, but I hadn’t talked to her. She seemed nice enough, but she wasn’t me and I really, really felt like I was going to puke.

“Carrie Ardwel.” Cher gripped my hand a bit tighter.

“Treyc Cohen.”

“Anastasia Baker.”

…

“Cher Lloyd.” I hugged Cher and just stood there, arms limp.

Oh God.

“And the last one to go on,” Simon said, “Is Gamu Nhengu.”

“Oh God,” I whispered. I had failed, I had failed and my dream had just burst like a bubble. I covered my mouth with my hands automatically, as I always did when I showed emotion. Or rather, I was taught not to show it but clasp my hands in front of my face instead.

“All of you who are left,” Simon’s eyes were on me, “I am really sorry, but your journey ends here. Thank you.”

“Charlotte?” Louis called quietly, and I went over.

“I’m sorry; I just don’t think you’re ready to be on an international stage, all on your own.” I nodded as if I understood, which I didn’t. “Go and finish school, and come back then.” He smiled.

“Already have,” I whispered through my hands. “I’m going to go to uni now. If there’s one that still wants me.”

I walked off the stage as one of the first, passing the other Louis who came up to me—looking pretty sorry—to ask me how it had went, but he didn’t say anything when he saw my face, he just awkwardly patted my shoulder and stepped away, probably going on stage. My guess was that he wasn’t good with emotions, but I didn’t want to deal with anyone right now.

Cher probably didn’t get that message, because she hugged me, trying to pry my hands away from my face and failing.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered, but it wasn’t. Well, not for me. She got through. And I really couldn’t deal with anyone who had right now.

-*-

“Charlotte Hunter?”

I turned, putting my suitcase on the floor next to me.

“Yeah?”

“Thought I recognized you, Blondie.” The stage-hand smiled. “You were requested for an interview. Right entrance. Go.”

My hands were shaking as I went up the stairs and almost fell—on top of Louis, who looked like he had cried. Probably not as bad as me, but he had.

“Hey,” I whispered as he steadied me and threw him a tiny smile.

“Hey,” he greeted back. He was standing with the curly haired boy who threw me a tiny smile.

“Sucks, eh?” he said. “I’m Harry, by the way.”

How many Harrys were there in this competition?

“Charlie.” I didn’t manage to smile back.

The silence was ringing in my ears as we went on the stage (why were we on the stage?), only to see that there were a few girls spread out on the other side of it. I looked around to see that on my side, there were only boys.

Oh great, now I had probably come up on the wrong side like a total idiot. Not that I wanted to stand with those girls, they looked horrid. Exactly the type Della and I always made fun of.

“Hello,” Nicole greeted us.

We all mumbled some kind of greeting and I slowly raised my hand, causing some chuckles.

“Yeah?” Simon asked, confused.

“Uhm, should I be on that side?” I pointed to the girls.

The judges laughed—I didn’t really understand what was so funny about this—and Louis shook his head.

“No, you’re quite right where you are.”

“Thanks you so much for coming back,” Nicole said. “Judging by some of your faces, I know this is pretty hard on you.” Yeah, I probably looked like a mess.

I didn’t even care though, I just felt the numbness that had started when Della had called me, completely ecstatic because she thought I’d definitely made it, and I had had to tell her I hadn’t.

“We’ve thought long and hard about this, and we’ve thought about all of you as individuals…” Dramatic pause. Geez, lady.

“And we feel that you’re too talented to let go of.” I didn’t really get what she was saying, I was craving a Wagon Wheel right now. I was out, so why didn’t I just take one on the stage with me? Impressions didn’t matter anymore, did they? It wasn’t like I was going to come back—my Mum and I had a deal. If I didn’t make this, I was going to study, and study something proper, without complaining.

“We think it’d be a good idea to have two separate groups.”

Oh, groups. Wait, why was I in the boys’ group? Thanks very much, not that I’d want to be in a group with these girls.

The boys next to me wrapped their arms around me, and so did I. I smiled at Louis next to me.

“We’ve decided to put you through.”

Oh my God.

“OhMyChocolate!” I gushed, pulling Louis’ face towards me and kissing his cheek, causing him to blush. I clasped my hands over my mouth again, facing the ground, laughing and crying at the same time while I jumped up and down.

Harry, you know, Curly Boy, had fallen to his knees. Some blonde guy pulled him up and the boys gathered into a group hug, Louis pulling me into them with one hand, laughing.

“This is a once in a lifetime chance. You’ll have to work 10, 12, 15 hours a day, every day, and take this opportunity. You’ve got a real shot here, guys.”

I think I was hyperventilating.

We all kind of jumped down the stage, only I tried to skip down the stairs but was so giddy and shaky that I actually fell flat on my face (again). I stayed there, shaking, until someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“You okay, love?” A guy held his hand in front of me. His name was Liam, I think, and he’d been here already, I’d watched him, shouting at the judges when they told him he couldn’t go.

“Oh God, is she crying?” an Irish accent asked, panicking.

Liam helped me into a sitting position. I still couldn’t say anything I was laughing so badly.

“Nope, laughing her butt off.” He stated, causing all of the boys to laugh.

I gasped, trying to breathe, but I was laughing too hard. “Oh… my gosh …” I managed to say between laughs. “I’m … such … a clutz.”

That only made me laugh more.

When we’d all calmed down, I stood up, pulling myself up on Liam’s arm. “I think I lost my shoe,” I stated calmly, only to have Blondie laughing again.

Okay?

“Well, hi.” I said, putting on my shoe that a dark-haired dude had gotten for me.

“I’m Charlie as in Charlotte, Hunter, but nobody calls me that. I’m sixteen, and I live in a Boarding School, and I know you,” I pointed at Liam, “because my sister was, like, your biggest fan back when you were here the first time.” He grinned sheepishly. “I know him,” I pointed at Louis, “even though I wish I didn’t, because Louis’ a butthead.”

Louis laughed his obnoxious and totally funny laugh. “Nobody’s called me a butthead since Second Year.”

“Not to your face,” I argued.

“Well, I’m Harry Styles,” Harry said rather slowly, his husky voice—a baritone, if I had to guess—making a hilarious contrast to my speed-talking mezzo.

“Like the ice cream?” I asked.

“I guess? I’m sixteen and I’m from Cheshire.”

“I’m Louis Tomlinson!” Louis exclaimed, causing me to laugh, along with the blonde dude. “I’m 18, and I’m from Doncaster.”

“This one girl in Della’s form is from Doncaster!” I exclaimed.

“I thought we’d already established that?” Louis grinned.

“I hate her.” I stated, happily, and the blonde dude laughed again.

“So what about you, blondie?” I asked.

“I’m Niall,” he said in an adorable Irish accent. “Niall Horan, and I’m from Ireland.” Duh. “And I thought it was gonna be strange to be in a band with a girl, but you’re funny.”

I curtseyed, for real this time.

“See!” Louis pointed at me. “Curtsey!”

“Pointing kills fairies,” I said, together with Liam, who laughed.

“I’m Liam Payne, I’m 16, and I auditioned in 2008.”

I clapped.

“You watched it, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Was shouting at the TV, my sister still loves you to death, she thought you were so adorable.” Everyone laughed.

The others all got their phones out, except Harry, who grinned. “My Mum’s outside, looking for some crazy girl she was totally in love with and wants me to marry, so I’ll just go give her the sign.” I nodded, and just in that moment, Will picked up the phone.

“Charlie?”

“Will!” I exclaimed. “Why are you answering my lesbo’s phone?”

“She’s brawling, the witch threw her out of the CRs.” The CRs were what we called the Common Rooms, there was one for the girls, one for the boys, one for everyone, and one for every house. Yes, we had houses, totally Harry Potter. Oh, and the witch? That was our Head Of House (the Head of Girls’ School House, called GSH, so the place where all the girls boarders lived). She was ginger, had a few cracked teeth, and was scary as hell. I had actually been scared of her when I first arrived, being 12 and all.

“Well, tell her to stop crying her adorable eyes out of her schmexy face, because I got through after all! In an all boy band, mind you, but still!”